Delusions to Live By
by alanwolfmoon
Summary: Wilson hits his head, wakes up, and thinks that he and House have been lovers for a while.


Wilson closed his eyes.

House ran his hand up Wilson's chest, bit into the side of his neck, nibbled up to his earlobe—

"Wilson! Get out of the shower, already!"

Wilson opened his eyes, "almost done!"

"Dude, you've been in there like an hour! If you're gonna use up all the hot water, you can move back into the damn hotel room!"

"No! it's okay, I'll be right out!"

He closed his eyes again, irritated that he wouldn't be able to drag this out.

House was in the shower with him, their wet bodies pressed close together…

"Wilson!"

The door to the bathroom slammed open, and Wilson jumped, slipped, fell—

"Owww…."

"Jimmy?"

"…Greg?"

House's face was slowly coming into focus above him.

"Hey," Wilson mumbled, reaching up towards the other man.

House gripped his shoulders, stopping him from sitting up, "don't move. The paramedics'll be here soon."

"Oh… I fell… crap, did I knock you over?"

House blinked at him, for a moment, "I wasn't even all the way in the room when you fell, Wilson."

Wilson frowned a bit, "no…. You were in the shower with me."

House stared at his friend, "uh… I haven't been in the shower with you since you had to help me get into it during the infarction. That was ten years ago, Wilson."

"No… not like that. Greg… stop fooling around. It's not funny."

House scrunched his eyebrows together, "Wilson…"

"Greg… is it bad?"

"I… didn't think so… but now I'm thinking you hit your head pretty good there, buddy."

Wilson's large brown eyes widened, "what… how bad, Greg?!"

Not so bad," said House, quickly, trying to keep his friend from freaking out and possibly hurting himself, "calm down. it's okay."

"Greg, please…"

"What?"

Wilson reached up, pulling down on House's shirt, until House bent over, expecting Wilson to whisper something—maybe it was hurting Wilson to talk at normal volume.

What he did not expect was Wilson to kiss him.

"It's gonna be okay," said Wilson, quietly, letting go, "but I just… wanted to make sure…"

"Wilson," said House, voice suddenly hoarse, "I think you need a CT. Really soon."

"So… you aren't boyfriends," said Dr. Baker, slowly, "but he thinks you are."

House nodded, "we've been friends for almost twenty years, but… not that way."

"There's no way this started before he fell, is there? That whatever caused this is what caused the fall?"

"No. he was perfectly normal… was staying at my place after his wife kicked him out, sleeping on my couch. He took a shower. Was taking forever to get out, so I burst in on him. he was startled, jumped, and slipped. It was only after he woke up that he started acting weird, and then… well, kissed me."

Baker nodded, thoughtfully, and spoke, "do you know what he was doing in the shower?"

"Uh… no?"

"Was he… uh… well, did he have an erection?"

House stared at the man, "I really did not think to check."

"It's possible that he was… well, imagining… when he fell…and wires got crossed."

House closed his eyes, "oh, god… that's… incredibly pathetic… is it gonna go away?"

"It will most likely resolve as the swelling goes down. in the meantime… just humor him."

"Am I supposed to do that when he kisses me?"

Baker shrugged, "tell him you think you might have a cold, or something. And… if you do have a problem with him possibly having feelings for you? Don't tell him that until after the confusion resolves. It'll just hurt him right now."

House shrugged, and limped out.

Wilson opened his eyes, sleepily, as House limped into the room.

"Greg," he mumbled, pushing his hand out from under the covers.

House awkward gripped it, smirking briefly at Wilson's sleepy smile.

"Can you come'ere?" asked Wilson, yawning, "or you think the nurses'll yell at you?"

House bit his lip for a moment, then, Baker's words coming into his mind, sighed, "I already managed to get on their bad side."

Wilson sighed, nodding, "better not risk it then, I guess…"

He sounded pitifully sad.

House hesitated, before awkwardly getting to his feet, and putting his arm around his friend's shoulders, leaning over the bed, rubbing his hand gently up and down the younger doctor's back as Wilson sat up, burying his face in House's shoulder.

"You should get some rest."

Wilson nodded into his friend's chest.

House eased him back down to the bed, waited, then, as soon as he was sure his friend was asleep, removed his arm.

He didn't pull his hand out of Wilson's grip, though.

That was at least kind of bearable.

The nurses came in to wake Wilson for his next neuro check, and he didn't seem any better.

House finally relented, and laid on the bed next to him, sitting up against the pillows.

Wilson curled, resting his head on House's stomach.

House sighed, and let him.

Wilson was clearly upset, hurt by House's distance when he thought it shouldn't be there.

House gently rested his hand on his friend's back, rubbing softly.

Wilson raised his head, looking at the older doctor, "House?"

"Shh. Lie back down."

Wilson held his gaze for a moment longer, then slowly rested his head back on his friend's abdomen.

House's hand continued to trail in gentle circles over the surface of his back, and he soon found himself drifting off against the warm softness of his friend's body.

House sighed, as Wilson drifted into sleep.

He didn't move to shift his friend, just let him lie there, peacefully.

Did Wilson… really want this?

Was that why he had been imagining it, that he wished he could have this?

Or had it just been a fantasy for transient physical pleasure?

Was Wilson simply using him as a reference for the male anatomy?

He certainly didn't mind; it wasn't as if he hadn't fantasized about casual acquaintances and close friends alike.

It was actually a bit… well…

He didn't particularly like mirrors, especially ones that showed bellow the upper thigh.

Or ones that showed the definition of the right shoulder as compared to the left.

But… what if Wilson actually did want this?

He should probably figure out how he felt about that… because the issue would almost

certainly come up if Wilson felt that way.

And…what if he never got over this?

House sighed again, and gently rested his hand on top of his friend's head, running his fingers through the soft brown hair.

This wasn't accomplishing anything.

He should get some sleep.

Wilson yawned, nuzzling further against his lover's neck.

He smiled, as House gently stroked his hair.

"Hey. We have time before work?"

"Open your eyes."

Wilson did.

He was in the hospital.

Oh. Yeah, crap.

"Oops."

"'sok."

Wilson rested his head back down, letting out a soft, hitched sigh of comfort.

"I'm trying to remember… how long have we been together?" asked House, curiously.

Wilson smiled into House's neck, "you have a crappy memory. Since Bonnie kicked me out, remember? Just after stacy left."

House blinked at the ceiling, for a moment, then smirked a little.

That at least made sense.

They'd slept in the same bed for almost a month, because House had been unable to sleep through the night because of the pain, and too stubborn to call for help from even just the other room.

He'd routinely woken up to find his friend sidled up against him, an arm over his waist.

He'd assumed that Wilson's sleeping brain was mistaking his body for Bonnie's, and just gently eased his friend off, but there had been times that Wilson had woken before he had, and must have known they slept like that.

The nurse came in to do Wilson's morning neuro check.

Wilson did fine, except for the still thinking he and House were lovers.

House left to get breakfast.

When he came back, carrying a cup of coffee, Wilson was sitting, crying, on the bed.

"Wilson?"

Wilson continued to cry, not reacting.

House set down his coffee and went to him, gripping the younger doctor's shoulder, "hey. What happened?"

Wilson raised his head, looking up miserably at his friend, "you don't want to be here."

House sighed, gently smoothing his friend's slightly mussed hair, "no. I don't want to be here. I want to be at home. It's nothing to cry over."

Wilson looked at him, large brown eyes shining with tears, "no… you don't want to be with me."

House looked at him, for a moment, unsure whether he should take this as a change to get wilson to act normal, then sat on the edge of the bed, gripping his friend's head with both hands and gently bringing it forward, pressing his lips against Wilson's forehead.

"Shh," he murmured, quietly, "don't say things like that."

He pulled away, still holding his friend's head, and met the tear-filled eyes, "of course I do. I wouldn't be here, like this, if I didn't."

Wilson looked at him, for a long while.

Then he nodded.

"Okay."

He leaned forward, resting his head against House's shoulder.

House awkwardly patted his back, as his friend slowly stopped crying.

Was it wrong, that he felt happier with Wilson confused like this than he had... pretty much ever before?

Wilson yawned, not opening his eyes.

There was a hand gently stroking through his hair, as his head rested on something warm.

The warm thing smelled familiar, in a way that made him both tingle and feel warm all over.

Then, suddenly, he recognized the smell.

He opened his eyes.

Hospital.

Shower.... he'd been in the shower, House had burst in on him... the hours after that were fuzzy, he didn't know what had happened.

But he remembered.... oh... oh, crap. Oh, holy crap.

He remembered thinking...

And House....

House hadn't been a total bastard about it.

House had gone along, House was going along now, because he knew that was House's hand stroking through his hair.

His heart slowly eased out of his throat.

It was okay.

House knew it had been a delusion caused by head trauma, not anything....

"Wilson?"

Wilson raised his head off his friend's shoulder, sitting up on the hospital bed, face flushed bright red.

"I'm so sorry..." he whispered.

"For...what?"

House seemed unsure what was going on.

Wilson's face turned even redder, if that was possible.

"I... uh... you... I tried to kiss you.... and...."

House regarded him, silently.

Wilson dropped his eyes, "I don't... I'm sorry."

"Were you just confused, or do you really feel that way?"

Wilson raised his eyes, startled and confused, "I..."

House's face was impassive, gave him no clue what to answer.

So he went with the truth, "yes, I really feel that way."

House tugged on his friend's shirt, "then lie the hell back down."

Wilson did, movements slow, and hesitantly rested his head back down on House's chest.

House's hand returned to the top of his head, and resumed gently combing through his hair, as he whispered, "me too."


End file.
